Collections
by Rhea-samma
Summary: It's a really bad habit, and it needs to stop now, before it's too late. WatxTatness. FINALLY DONE. Epilogue complete.
1. Magpies Flying In

This little blurb came to me just now. It's kind of adorable really, magpie!Tatsumi.

I tried not to kill Tatsumi's personality, but he may be slightly OOC. Sorry 'bout that. I am going to have to write a sequeal chapter to this methinks. x3

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**Collections**

Tatsumi Seiichiro was not one to randomly hoard things. Money and recources perhaps, yes, but _things_? That was a habit he'd given up decades ago.

Or so he'd thought.

It had started innocently...so innocently it hadn't even been a 'start' (because to _keep_ the object he'd picked up had not been his intention in the first place).

The man was always a bit of a mess, a walking embodiment of disorder and chaos. So it was no surprise that he would drop things here and there, that he would accidentally forget something in the places he so often frequented around the office.

So it had been, with a dutiful sigh, that Tatsumi scooted out his chair and bent over to pick up the hair tie that lay crumpled and forgotten on the floor. He turned it over in his hands, running his fingers along the soft, cottony length of fabric. It was dark, orange-ish brown and quite well worn. Not one of his friend's finer hairties. Tatsumi smiled to himself. His favorite was one he'd only ever seen twice, once when the younger Shinigami had dressed up for a nice dinner on a case, and once before going to a convention.

His favorite hair tie, and probably the scientist's best hair-binding apparatus, was a scrap of peacock-blue silk(or possibly satin, Tatsumi wasn't great with textiles), colored with a pattern of robin's-egg-blue swirls, tiny gold sunbursts, and green crescents, the elegant diamond of fabric was rimed with short, artistically frayed tassels, with threads of each color represented, though mostly blue and teal.

Tucked away in the curled, gold tresses, the tie set off the hair around it magnificently.

As he caressed the comparativly plain hair tie in his hand, he smirked softly--thinking perhaps he should invent an excuse for formal wear during the weekly meetings. He tucked the fabric into his pocket, vowing to give it back to Watari later, and to tell the man to keep better track of his belongings.

* * *

_One for Sorrow/Two for Joy..._

* * *

The hair tie had never made its way back into the possession of its owner. When Tatsumi had next seen the blonde Shinigami, a new hairband was already in place--a blue one which reminded Tatsumi of his favorite hair tie. Because of that, and the fact that Watari had to run off to see to a minor explosion, Tatsumi never got a chance to bring up the missing hair piece.

If it didn't bother Watari, it didn't bother him either.

But there he was somewhat wrong.

When he got home that evening, he tossed the article onto a relativly empty shelf of his bookcase, sternly telling himself to give it back tomorrow morning. As he made himself some rice and cooked eel for dinner however, he couldn't concentrate. And when he sat down in the living room, he couldn't eat with the hairband just sitting there, looking at him ever-so plaintively. With a sigh, Tatsumi set down his chopsticks and folded the band, smoothing out any creaces or wrinkles that dared show their faces. As he sat down to eat again, he found himself distracted. No, no, no. That wasn't right at all. He sighed and got up again.

It took a good five or ten minutes to find some way of storing the small strip of fabric that would both satisfy the spirit of Watari lingering in the strands, and Tatsumi's need for order. His rice had turned a little cold.

* * *

_Three for a Girl/Four for a Boy..._

* * *

The next morning Tatsumi found he'd overselpt a few minutes, and so in his rush he forgot to grab the troublesome little hairband.

It never made its way back to Watari.

* * *

_Five for Silver..._

* * *

That's how it began. Suddenly, Tatsumi had a lamentable habit of.. of _collecting_ things touched or left by the scientist.

The shelf back at his home had expanded to two, and now Tatsumi had three different hair ties in addition to the original one, a set of broken, shattered spectacles that Watari had long since replaced, a small 100 ml beaker left in Tatsumi's office one day, a couple memos, a few invites to coffee, piles of post-it-notes and doodles, and all of Watari's (late) original reports--all the while hoping his odd behavior had gone unnoticed. (He turned in copies of them, with the excuse of translating the near-illegible writing of the resident mad scientist.)

If Konoe's expression was anything to go by while turning in the copies of those reports, then no it _hadn't_ gone unnoticed.

Tatsumi almost winced as he pocketed another sticky-note on his desk.

This problem was seriously getting out of hand...

When had his habit turned into a problem?

And more importantly, when had it turned into a habit? Maybe the third hair tie had been a bit much... Or the fact that now he kept one on him at all times, and another one hidden away in his desk?

Maybe it earned the classification of 'problem' when he started to rely on and confide in those hair ties. It was foolish really, but mostly harmless.

Tatsumi grabbed one of the hair ties as he got ready for bed that night--another annoying habit, now it was almost impossible to sleep without holding one of the stupid things. (He was over sixty years old! He didn't need to cling onto some piece of fabric like a miniature blanket!) This had to stop. He told himself. It would stop, he would make himself stop.

But telling himself that couldn't make his hands unclench from around the fibers that made him feel a lot less lonely.

* * *

_Six for Gold..._

* * *

The Kinki sector was fairly quiet, as things went. However, being a Shinigami meant eventually things got _very_ ugly sometimes. And when things go ugly for a Shinigami who is an exception to the "All Shinigami must work in pairs" rule, things get _really, really_ ugly.

So when the head of sector #2 materialized in the middle of the Shokan division, bloody, swaying, crying, babbling incoherently, and half-way out the door to unconciousness, Tatsumi found himself both terrified and sucumbing to urges best left alone.

Tatsumi caught the man as his split and torn hamstring finally crumpled, and carried Watari to the lab protectively, all the while barking out orders to the rest of his staff.

Tatsumi found himself cleaning up his friend's demonically tainted injuries with care and concern that he hadn't known still existed within him. Tatsumi found himself consoling and rocking the man gently to sleep when he screamed at night terrors with volume enough to (literally) rouse the dead.

The secretary found himself caresing the golden spill of Watari's hair over the infirmary pillow, after scrubbing away all the horrendous blood clots matted in there, as he chided the scientist for not calling for help or hailing some sort of distress signal.

And when Konoe came in at 2 AM on the second consecutive day of this, to order him to go home, Tatsumi stood and reluctantly made his way to the door.

But he stopped by the lab on his way out. He scooped out some food for Watari's birds, and left out a couple petri dishes of fresh water for them.

He wasn't even thinking when he reached out and snatched the white labcoat laying over the back of the chair.

At least.. not until he was on his couch snuggled up to it, and surrounded by everything else he had that was Watari.

_Damnit!_ When had that stupid, _stupid_ scientist become so important to him? (Didn't he _know_ by now when to call in for back-up?) Granted, when he first had laid eyes on the scientist he'd had some distant, vauge thoughts along the lines of of 'oh my isn't he blindingly attractive,' but this was completely different. This was.. a realization.. an epiphany. The feeling that if he lost Watari, he lost everything he'd ever had worth having. He inhaled Watari's comforting scent stemming from the labcoat again--wondering just _when_ exactly his olfactory gland had learned to recognize that understated aroma... That particular, unique blend of majorum, burning leaves, and winterspice, all amplified by the blonde's herbal shampoo.

He was back in the infirmary before the work-day started. As he sat down, amber eyes opened and stared up at him sleepily. They looked at each other for a few moments, and then Watari's face broke into a smile, which made his dry lip start to bleed.

"Hey Tatsumi." The secretary swallowed, torn between shouting at the man for making him worry, crying in relief, or laughing at such a typical response. He chose none of these options.

"Hey Watari." The blonde shifted and tried to sit up. Tatsumi helped him, betting that the man was probably still sore and stiff. The scientist looked his injuries up and down. He was silent for a moment. Then,

"I guess I screwed up, huh?" Tatsumi was taken aback by this decleration,

"Watari, what do you mean? You held your own against one of Lucifer's chosen." Watari shrugged and grinned again--masking some sort of inner pain that Tatsumi couldn't guess at,

"I dunno. It seemed like the right thing to say."

"Watari..." The smile became broader, all the more false. "What did that demon say to you?" The grin dropped, along with most of the pretense,

"Nothing I can't handle with enough time, Tatsumi." A hand reached out to rest on his shoulder,

"'Tari..." The scientist blinked, he was _sure_ Tatsumi said his full name, it was just said so softly that the first syllable was lost.

"'M tired. You don't happen to have a hair tie do you?" Automatically Tatsumi held out the one that resided in his breast-coat pocket. "Thanks." Watari took it, also automatically, and started to tie back his hair. Suddenly they both paused and time froze as they realized what just happened. With trembeling hands, Watari finished off his knot and then fixed Tatsumi with a serious eye. He had recognized that hair tie--it had been missing for ages!

The secretary bit his lip. Damnit! What had he been thinking?

"Tatsumi..?" Watari's voice drew him out of his paniced stupor, "Is there something you're not telling me...?"

* * *

**_Seven for a Secret, Never to be Told_**

* * *

Flushing a little, Tatsumi coughed delicately, "Well..."

He had to make up something quick.

And it had to be good.

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Yay First chapter finished! x3 And I thought that the whole magpie counting rhyme was appropriate, so I threw it in there. Leave a review why don't you? XDD


	2. A Tiding, A Charm, A Glup, or A Murder

Yes I am a total review whore XD Giff me reviews naiw pleasu. Kthnxbai! And if you have time, read some of my other stories too, 'kay:D I love maggypies, they're quite possibly my favorite bird.

Kehehehe, I love this whole idea. So adorable--in a desperate almost-yet-not-quite stalkerish way.

(Watari: Tatsuuuumiiiiiiii give me back my labcoat! It's one of my best:points at 'Ask me about my chemistry' slogan on the back:  
Tatsumi: Mine:increases snuggledeathgrip on the coat:) XD I have to draw that chibiness sometime :'DDD Er, right.

I'm sorry this took so long, but it became way more complicated an intense than I originally had planned, but the magpie folklore I knew got me thinking, and then researching (I even looked up some buddhist chant words!), and some of you wanted to know what happened to Watari so... wow. Now it's this. I intended for it to be way more vauge! Hope you like it! Okay. Storytime now :D

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**Collections**

Watari Yutaka had a vast collection of things, it was just what he _did_.

He was a professional pack-rat of things, odds, ends, manga, calender pages, film reels, magnets, sunflower seeds, scientific journals, notices, newspapers, coffee cups, hairpins, periodic tables of the elements, movies, periodic tables of the elements memorabilia(five mugs, ten t-shirts, a pair of briefs, a bumper sticker, two window clings, a couple of mouse pads, a few posters, a lightswitch cover...honestly. How many periodic tables did people think he needed? He always got at least one at Christmastime and on his birthday...Though to be fair, two of the mugs had broken over the years in various accidents.) CDs, empty bottles, cracker crumbs, birds, late paperwork, porn, post it notes, beakers, more porn, burners, shot glasses, miscellaneous rubbish, books, anime, and half a dozen other inconsequential things.

Little of it meant anything to Watari. He just really didn't know what else to do, nor what else to do with his things once he obtained them. (Almost incongruously, Watari had few pictures around his house, but looking at a photo of himself as a child with strangers he could only _guess_ to be his parents and friends was a little hard on him.)

So it was surprising when his newest collection actually _meant_ something to him for a change.

A great deal to him in fact.

It was actually kind of scary.

* * *

_One for Sadness..._

* * *

It had started out like anything else. He saw it, he liked/needed it, so he picked it up.

It wasn't really anything special. Just a memo, reminding him _again_ that they had a meeting later that week, or maybe that day, whenever. However, there was an additional note scrawled on the bottom, one in the other man's unmistakable, flawless hand.

_Watari, have you been sleeping recently? You seem a bit tired and restless lately. Perhaps you should take a break from your latest experiment and go home tonight? _

_Don't forget the meeting, Tatsumi._ The blonde looked at the message and smiled at the post-script, warning him that fatigue was not an adequate excuse for tardiness. Stifling a yawn, Watari looked down at the note, pleasantly surprised at how observant Tatsumi was. _I guess nothing goes unnoticed by him. Maybe I will take that advice._

So he pocketed the scrap of paper.

Nothing magical, nothing new. He was always doing that, but he actually pulled out this paper and _looked_ at it...quite often. Not something Watari usually did; he collected papers, books, and magazines, read them, and then promptly forgot about them--when he reread something he often ended up getting a second copy of it by mistake...not that he knew it.

* * *

_Two for Mirth..._

* * *

That was how it started. Suddenly Watari was solely collecting things to do with Tatsumi Seiichiro.

Collecting things wasn't unusual, (after all, Watari seemed to attract material objects like a proverbial magnet) it was the fact that _this_ collection become so favored, and so suddenly.

Watari even began casting things away, to make room for new items related to the secretary.

That was an event in and of itself. Watari never threw anything away. His reasons spanned from, 'I don't have time to get rid of all this junk' to 'you never know when something might be useful!'

* * *

_Three for Marriage..._

* * *

Watari chewed on a pen idly as he catalouged his "Tatsumi Collection." So far he had: 324 paperclips, 2 staple removers (of which one was currently alive and scurrying through the halls like a little, bad-tempered mouse), a stapler, 761.45 staples, 6 fountain pens, 4 ballpoint pens, 84 memos, 33 emails, 3 pencils, an eraser, 54 budget request notices in various states of denial and approval, eighteen meeting notices (for the preceding week alone), some coffee cups (paper and styrafoam), a pair of the kagetsukai's glasses he broke (thank Enma for his powers, and that he was able to replace them!), a fluffy white towel from the Kurosaki case, countless reminders not to blow up the lab _again_, a cufflink, a about a dozen or so informal notes inquiring about the state of Watari's health or sleep, and a smattering of thank-you notes for one thing or another.

Watari sighed. He still felt like his collection was missing something...then it dawned on him. He fought the urge to giggle aloud--003 teased him enough about how much time he spent with his newest obsession, and he didn't need to give her an added incentive to. He settled, instead, for letting his mouth twist into a wry smile. _I need a tie._

* * *

_Four for Birth..._

* * *

Now a _normal_ person simply would have gone out and bought a tie, however it has been firmly established that Shinigami are not normal people--least of all Watari.

* * *

_Five for Laughing..._

* * *

Thus it was that Watari decided to somehow obtain one of the secretary's ever-present, boring (yet-oh-so-sexy) ties.

Being a man of both philosophy and science Watari was well familiar with the phrase, "Be careful what you wish for."

It was a shame he wasn't thinking about it at the time.

* * *

_Six for Crying..._

* * *

Mistress Fortune had a funny way of granting Watari's request. Funny as in, 'ha ha, isn't that nutty?' not, 'what the hell, is that a three headed donkey?' funny.

Or at least it was funny if one thought things like, 'ha ha, look at that bunny rabbit getting burned alive and eaten by termites' was funny.

If that was to be considered funny, then what happened to Watari could only be classified as 'hilarious.'

* * *

_Seven for Sickness..._

* * *

It was a standard case at first glance. Some demon was lurking around and running amok, screwing with the spiritual matrix of Watari's sector--meaning he actually had to _leave the lab_ and go take care of the stupid thing(grumble, grumble)--just the usual depravity, strange deaths, and missing souls that usually accompany such cases. One of many similar crimes a Shinigami might see during his career.

It seemed to be some minor demon, or some magician-screwball of Muraki's ilk. Seemed to be.

As Watari walked down the streets of Osaka (mourning his responsibility at choosing to stay away from 'Den Den Town' this trip, as he really didn't have the money to go crazy in an electronic paradise) he looked up and noticed a magpie sitting in the branch of a ginko tree. He frowned. It didn't seem to be the native, azure-tinted magpie that inhabited Japan. No, this was the standard 'Black and White' magpie--the one that most people in the Western World think of when they hear the word. Huh, how.. odd. The bird tilted it's head at him, as though observing him.

Watari found himself remembering a little folk rhmye he'd heard somewhere. _Magpie, magpie, chatter and flee--Turn up thy tail, and good luck to me._ The bird chirped at him once and then sat there, as if in defiance of his sudden thought. Watari shrugged and walked on, but the bird still watched him suspiciously with its bright red eyes.

Watari's back was turned, so he didn't notice when a second magpie fluttered down to join his mate.

* * *

_Eight for Dying..._

* * *

One magpie was strange enough, but suddenly Watari began to notice more and more of the birds as he approached the shrine that was at the center of all the spiritual ruckus going on in the city. Then those few bacame a dozen, and those dozen became twenty, and suddenly there was an entire tiding, a whole charm of magpies perched on every available surface--all completely silent, all watching him unblinkingly. It was a little unnerving...

When he came within twenty paces of the Shrine gates, the birds all started cawing at once, chattering uproariously. Watari cringed, that was going to give him a headache if they kept that up. He took one step back. Silence. As though someone had thrown the 'mute' switch. One step forward, the harsh call of the corvadae ripped at his ears. _Hm. Sooooo..I guess this person...or demon has some sort of magpie affiliation? That might explain some of those weird feathers I kept finding at all the places of vanishings and murders..._

**_CAW!CAW!CAWE!CAWE!CAWCACAWE..!_**

Urgh.

The chemist proceded through the temple, and it was empty, no attendants, no visitors. There was a courtyard in the back, where more crow-kin stood on the ground, cawing and crying. In the center of this mass of black and white, there was a gap. A perfect cirle six and a half feet in diameter. _Shit._ The cawing stopped suddenly, and became more rhytmic, like a chant, like a song, _or like a summons! Oh shit! This can't be good..._ Watari whipped out a fuda and attempted to startle the birds, perhaps jar them out of their trance, but there were just so many--everywhere! And now they were whirling in the sky as well, blocking out the light, making it a murky facsimile of twilight. Watari steeled himself for whatever was going to appear in that circle. It was probably the root of this problem anyways.

A disturbingly large magpie floated down lazily and landed in the center of the empty space. Suddenly, Watari could _hear_ a sick, disturbing song in the air. A malevolent shanty that was somehow terrible and beautiful at the same time.

_/One's sorrow, two's mirth.../_

The magpie grew larger, the shape distorted.

_/Three's a wedding, four's a birth.../_

Watari held his breath, ignoring the few, bolder birds that raked their claws against his face. The cuts healed and he watched as the pie became decidedly less bird shaped--droves of birds were flying into the black shapeless mass, to be absorbed.

_/Five's a christening, six a dearth.../_

A mass of white, black, and irridecence, eight feet tall and growing--yet thin and wiry, spindly.

_/Seven's heaven, eight is hell.../_

He could see claws, long and sharp like black obsidian. the form hunched over and suddenly three pairs of wings erupted from the demon's back. Six in all--black and white, larger, elegant counterparts to the wings of the magpies all around.

_/And nine's the devil his old self.../_

Suddenly the birds were silent.

A face that was slightly human, mostly bird, and all monster looked down on him.

_"Hello Shinigami."_

Watari shivered. That voice was scary. It was smooth and low, yet it crackled and fizzled around the edges. Like hot oil dripping down onto a hot plate. No, that was wrong. It was that there was so much _power_ in this being, mere sound alone could not contain it.

_"What do you want, oh Hound of Hades?"_

Watari steeled himself, locking his fear out of sight. The demon was..not exactly ugly, but not beautiful either. Watari had the sneaking suspicion though, that it had an 'irresistable bishonen form' that demons so love inhabiting. However, the current purpose was to scare, to intimidate. Watari mentally saluted the demon for chosing such a mode--human enough to understand, but demon enough to frighten. The mouth was a particularly interestng hybrid. The upper half a beak, with the lower half being a human lip. "I am here to stop you. Return the souls you have stolen and go back to your Hell." There was the harsh laughter (echoed by the birds), touched by breathiness.

_"Why should I bow to your whims? So where is your friend--I am assuming there is one other. Shinigami fly in pairs of twos after all."_

Watari smiled, "Sorry, you're not important enough to warrent that." The demon smiled back, although there was notheing remotely close to warmth in it.

_"If you think that, then you have no idea who you are up against, do you little death god? I am one of the Proud Prince's own. I am an elite, far beyond any petty little hobgoblin you may have run across. And that includes darling little Sagatanasu."_ The demon made a sneering face, difficult to do with half a beak for a mouth. _"What a fool. He got no worse than he deserved."_

By this point Watari's knees were trembling. _Oh gods, if he thinks Saga was a weakling..._

_I am in so. much. trouble..._

He was going to die.

He was going to die again, and there was nothing to stop it. The demon made it's way to the temple and ripped down the wall, rearranging it into a throne of sorts. Oddly, the bright red laquer on the wood turned white and silver. The demon sat.

_"You will find however, that I am not unsporting, and I will allow you a chance to entertain me. If you impress me, why I might even consider giving up a few of those poor, precious souls."_ Watari found this highly unlikely, but anything that postponed his immediate death was a point in his favor.

_"Let's see how you measure up against my pets...Against my **murder** of magpies."_

After the demon's transformation, there were about one and a half score of birds left. A dozen or so stayed by their master, perched on his makeshift throne like sinister gargoyles. Their compatriots chattered angrily as they swooped down on Watari.

Watari cursed his long hair because it gave them more to grab and pull with their raking claws. Suddenly, a little army of beaks and talons were scratching at him, at his skin. Their attacks were so vigorous, so pernicious that they actually destroyed three fuda talismen before Watari could get one activated.

"Padipa Puja! Anumodana no maha jayamangala gatha!" A flare of light encircled Watari, blastaing away his offenders in a burst of singed feathers and blood. A few bird corpses that weren't completely immolated fell to the ground a few feet away--never to fly again.

Watari cringed as he felt an immense flare of spiritual energy, _human_ energy. It peaked and died. The implications were unmistakable. Watari gasped and dropped to his knees, blood dripping down into his eyes, but his collapse had nothing to do with his injuries that were slowly closing. It was because he had just _killed _the vessels for the stolen souls without realizing it. The demon was chuckling at him, enjoying his obvious anguish.

The Shinigami cursed and spun around with tears stinging his eyes, to face his shirlly laughing tormentor. _How did I--? How did I not sense them?_ The demon waved its onyx claws lazily.

_"You'll have to forgive me. It's such an old, easy trick. One drop of Lucifer's blood produces almost endless possibilities. They're so much easier to control, to morph, to bend, to break... And the presence of his blood so easily masks the presence of a soul."_

Yutaka felt sick, he wanted to puke, but there was really no time for him to be ill. _I-I just ... I just destroyed those souls! Human souls! O-obliterated! I should have remembered! Magpies supposedly carry a drop of Satan's--or I guess Lucifer's--blood under their tongues. Stupid Watari! Stupid! Stupid! STUPID!_ "K-Khamaya..cana..."

_"No, there is to be no forgivness for you little one. I daresay King Enma will have a few words to say when you get back. My my, twenty three souls gone forever. You would make a great demon Shinigami. Have you ever considered a change of vocation?"_ Watari was crying openly now, trembling with rage. He didn't care. That demon was wrong! Wrong! Wrong! Wrong! Watari was different! He was better than him!

Watari couldn't think, he felt himself screaming as a firey rage took over his senses. He ran at the demon, heedless of the amused smile and the second wave of birds.

These magpies were larger, and the demonic aura was stronger around them. Their claws raked deeper, their cuts bleed more, and didn't want to heal as fast. Watari didn't notice. He was beyond rational thought. He screamed again in anguish. Half a dozen paper talismen appeared and suddenly the birds were all dead, fallen to the ground and smoking slightly. (Thankfully this time, there was no flare of human energy afterwards.) Watari breathed heavily, no less angry, but feeling a little dizzy. He looked down at his body, his torn clothes. There was _so_ much blood...

He looked up at the demon and his anger faltered for a moment. It didn't look amused anymore.

The scientist coughed a little and began another buddhist mantra in his mind. _Om mani padme hum. Om mani padme hum. Om mani padme hum..._

It helped drown out the hurtful words of the demon, and the even more painful blows it landed

But it couldn't block them out completely.

It was then, during this battle, at his wit's end, out of fuda charms that Watari discovered something.

Giving life to drawings made out of his own blood made them a lot more powerful.

It also took a lot more energy.

* * *

_Nine for silver..._

* * *

With the demon defeated, and his blood-dragons gone, Watari stagared to the Torii gate in front of the temple in a haze. Clinging to the wood as though his afterlife depened on it, Watari thought of the Ministry, of Hisoka, Tsuzuki, Konoe, and the Gushoshin. Of 003. Of Tatsumi. Tears slid from his eyes without notice, and Watari dissapeared from the realm of the living.

* * *

_Ten for Gold..._

* * *

He was so...lost. Everything hurt. Where was he?

All he could hear were the hateful words and epitaths of the demon.

It was so dark and lonely.

He saw himself in his labcoat, which was suddenly spattered with black. He grew wings, black and opalescent. The sight made him scream, but he didn't know why. He couldn't remember...couldn't remember...

What else couldn't he remember? He knew there was _something_ important he had forgotten...

He thought he felt someone holding him. He stiffened, then struggled, screaming again. _Don't touch me! Get away! It'll swallow you too! Don't touch me! I'll kill you! Don't! Don't! Let me go! I'm not like you..!_

He stopped screaming when he realized the touch was niether malevolent nor going away. He could almost hear someone calling to him.

_Watari..._

"Watari?" Was that his name?

_Watari..._

Oh that's right...His name was Watari. He was a Shinigami.

_Watari..._

Huh. Who was calling him? The voice sounded familiar.. but who..? Who would want to call him? He was a murderer, worse than even. He was a faliure. More fit to be a demon than a Shinigami. That devil had recognized him as one of their own.. hadn't it said something like that?

_Watari you idiot._

Yeah sounds about right..wait a minute. That voice! That was.. Tatsumi...wasn't it?

Was that Tatsumi carressing his hair?

_Watari Yutaka you idiotic fool. Why didn't you call for help?_

No, he must be imagining that. Why would ice prince Tatsumi take care of him? Wasn't there a medic in Security?

_You've made us all very worried you know._

Sorry.

_If you don't wake up soom I.. I shall have to dock your pay you know. You hear me Watari? I'm telling you, as your boss, to wake up._

I am awake...aren't I?

No... no I'm not. Where am I? Who is this... 'I'? Is this my inner monolouge or is it just.. me? Or is it the real me...? Or is it---

_Yutaka please wake up._

Huh? No... you're definitly not Tatsumi...I'm going to go away now... Good night.. whoever.

Watari dreamt and had nightmares. Nightmares comrpised of white and black.

* * *

_Eleven for a Secret..._

* * *

Watari woke up, dazed and disoriented, and a more than a little sore all over. He frowned.

_Why am I in the infirmary? Did I blow up the lab again? Did one of my potions get loose? Did I.. **Oh.**_ Watari turned his head and thanked the foresight of whoever it was and emptied his stomach into the trashcan there.

Memories hit him in a rush, and he still wasn't quite prepared to deal with all of them yet. Watari trembled, eyes gathering tears.

"Here. Take this." A cup of water was thrust into view. Watari took it and swished his mouth twice, spitting the water into the plastic garbage can, ridding his mouth of the bitter taste. The cup was refilled and Watari drank it all in one go.

"Nice but it needs a little vodka." Konoe shook his head.

"I don't think so 'Drinky,' you should lay off the booze for awhile." Watari pouted and flipped over on his back again,

"I thought Tsuzuki was Drinky." The cheif snorted,

"Watari, please. I've seen the two of you. You drink alcohol like it were water." The scientist felt the need to defend his propensity for drinking,

"Technically, all the stuff I drink does in fact contain--"

"Watari, kid, do us both a favor and stop talking. It's late. You need to go back to sleep. I'll take care of this, alright?" The blonde nodded and watched his superior as he took the bin out with him.

"Sorry about...you know."

"It's fine Watari. Everyone eventually has a case where they do this." With that the cheif left.

"But it's _not_ fine." Watari whimpered. he stared at the ceiling. Sleeping did not sound like a very pleasant option right now, but being awake didn't hold much appeal either. _Damnit, I wish I didn't think so much._ His eyes fell on the beside table and widened.

Every curse and every single diety Watari had ever heard of passed his lips--which was quite a few. After several minutes worth of oaths, Watari's hands darted out in practiced cleptomania.

It. Was. A. Tie.

More importantly, it was one of _Tatsumi's_ ties. (Watari didn't know it, but the secretary had removed it, after nearly being strangled by it during one of Watari's convulsions.) No other tie could have that faint tang of ink, and that wonderful, heavenly smell of books and paper--like libraries and bookstores. No one else wore a tie that had diagonal stripes that were chosen because it had the best and cheapest dye-to-cloth-cover ratio. No tie but Tatsumi's would be expertly pressed, and yet still a little worn around the neck, where thirty or forty years of knotting worked away the threads, beacuse it was still servicable and not worth it to buy a new one just yet.

A silly little smile worked its way onto his face.

The tie dissapeared under his pillow. Suddenly, Watari felt very, very satisfied. And he felt good enough that he might even be able to get a bit of sleep.

When Watari woke up again a few hours later, he heard someone coming. His eyes closed again. Maybe he would drift off, maybe he wouldn't.

When Tatsumi came in, Watari knew it, even without looking. He did however, miss the confused gaze that the secretary gave the nightstand, before shrugging and walking over to sit next to him on a pre-situated stool.

Gold looked up as azure looked down. They stared quietly for a moment. Watari decided to smile. It made his lips bleed.

"Hey Tatsumi." Something undecipherable passed across his face before he answered.

"Hey Watari." The blonde shifted and (guessing his intentions) Tatsumi helped him sit up, strong hands gently guiding his sore muscles. The scientist wordlessly assesed his injuries. He was silent for a moment. Then,

"I guess I screwed up, huh?" Tatsumi was taken aback by this decleration,

"Watari, what do you mean? You held your own against one of Lucifer's chosen." Normally, he would have glowed at the compliment from the object of his...obsession? (Because the scientist most certainly did not harbor any warm, fuzzy, melty feelings for the man.) However, it only made him nonplussed and all the more thoughtful. Watari shrugged and grinned for the benefit of his coworker. No point in making him worried,

"I dunno. It seemed like the right thing to say."

"Watari..." He widened his smile. _Come on! Everyone falls for my smiles!_ "What did that demon say to you?" Watari gaped at him for a second before brooding over his answer. _Stupid, perceptive bastard._

"Nothing I can't handle with enough time, Tatsumi." Probably true, but that didn't make it any less painful in the meantime. Tatsumi's hand came to rest on his shoulder.

"'Tari..." He liked that nickname, Tatsumi decided. The loss of the first syllable was an accident, but he liked it. It suited his friend. Watari blinked at him, then changed the subject.

"'M tired. You don't happen to have a hair tie do you?" Mechanically, Tatsumi drew one out from his breast-coat pocket. "Thanks." Watari took it without thought and started to tie back his hair. they both froze, and Watari was suddenly very much awake. He finished his knot and then fixed Tatsumi with a serious eye. Son of a bitch! That missing hair tie had been driving him insane!

The secretary bit his lip, wishing very much for escape.

"Tatsumi..?" The secretary looked up and, for Tatsumi, looked positivly fearful. "Is there something you're not telling me...?" (Here Watari ignored his conscience, and the fact that _his boss' tie_ was hiding underneath his pillow.)

* * *

**_...Never to be told._**

* * *

The secretary cleared his throat uncomfortably, "Well..."

Watari raised a brow archly.

This would have to be good.

--------

Yay! Second chapter done! One more, and I promise it will be happy, and squeeful, and fluff-worthy XD

I am so mean to Watari DD":

I-I'm sorry :hugs scientist: Please forgive me! I love you! You're my favorite character--despite what I do to you! T-T

Once again sorry about the delay, but I think it was worth it, yes? I liked that demon though. So cool!  
'Kay, fixed some typos and stuff


	3. Meifu had a Pretty Bird

Oh jeez. This just keeps on growing. Now I'm going to need an epilogue! XDD  
Watari must've poured some sort of crazy growth potion on this fic. Hehe. I made a little random blurb+doodle on DA, the link is in my profile XD And apparently I lied about the fluffiness because there's still a whole mess of angst in this (but some fluff and stuff too!). This is going to end up being five or six chapters now I think(Including the epilogue!) Oh wait! Yes, yes I am going to need at least one other chapter x3 :is so evil: This chapter's rhyme is an adaptation of "Mary had a Pretty Bird"

-------

**Collections**

_Flushing a little, Tatsumi coughed delicately, "Well..." _

_He had to make up something quick. _

_And it had to be good. _

"Yeeeeees?" Tatsumi chewed at his lip again. Watari really wasn't making this any easier. "Tatsumi? Would you care to explain why you have one of my hair ties in your pocket?"

Would he care to explain? Hell no! Unfortunately, Watari's tone did not make this an option. Making up a believable story on the spot was difficult for Tatsumi, but it would be better than 'Hey. I've been randomly hoarding things of yours for awhile (like hair ties), and now I can't stand to be without one?' Oh yeah. That would go over _so_ well.

"Well, Watari. When I was on my way to check on you this morning I noticed this outside the infirmary. Naturally, I assumed it was yours. Perhaps it fell from your hair when you were carried in here--"

"Tatsumi, that hair tie has been missing for months." His visitor blanched,

"R-really? Now that you mention it I... I think I may have picked it up awhile back. I kept meaning to give it back to you but..things kept getting in the way." Tatsumi frowned. That part _was_ true. It was as if some subtle design of the universe had prevented it before now, one way or another. (Explosions, emergencies, the chief bursting into his office, 003, Terazuma and Tsuzuki arguing...in which case 'argue' meant 'destroy half of the Ministry's property.' Those two would never work off their debts.) The scientist looked at him askance, but decided not to call him out on his lie--well, mostly.

"So... you wouldn't happen to have anything to do with my other missing hair ties then, would you?" Tatsumi shook his head in the negative,

"No, sorry. Not in the least." Watari seemed almost put out for a fraction of a second.

"Oh. I see then." Watari lay back down, but he didn't really feel tired. The budget master cleared his throat,

"Watari, I realize you probably don't want to talk about it, but when we got there the aftermath was...rather staggering. What happened Watari?" The blonde smiled without any humor.

"Yeah...I'll give you the abridged version for now, how about that?" Tatsumi nodded,

"That would be fine. I don't want to push you to deal with issues you aren't ready to." Watari sighed in a mixture of relief and weariness,

"Okay long story short. As you guessed, one of Lucifer's demons was running around Osaka causing all sorts of troubles. I never did catch his name. For all his self-exultation, he never did introduce himself. Anyway, turns out he was some sort of bird demon, with an affiliation for magpies."

"Magpies?" Watari nodded. He raised a hand up to the ceiling, rotating his wrist gently this way and that, testing the limits of its mobility.

"Yeah. I know way too much folklore about them. Now that I'm, y'know, not faced with certain death and think about it.. one of the higher ups once said she felt my totem creature was a magpie." He closed his eyes and recited the words verbatim, even though they had been spoken well over fourteen years before, "'A social creature with generations of lore at its disposal, and knowledge gleaned from experience. Has advice on every topic (Meaning I'm nosy). Unpleasant truths are often exposed by their kind, with sharp words that are wise to heed, sometimes picking old wounds open...but they bring healing as well.'" Tatsumi chuckled.

"Sounds like you down to the letter." Watari let his hand sink down to his side and he smiled wryly at his superior,

"Just wait, it gets even better. 'Magpies followers are often as talkative as the magpie herself is, and many have wisdom beyond their years. They are quick to pick up on discrepancies in people's stories, and spot lies with keen observation. While they may be prone to nag or gossip, most are caring and wish the best for others.'" Tatsumi blinked,

"Now that's just spooky." Watari grinned,

"Isn't it though?" The smile faded and Watari looked at the wall, suddenly dark and brooding again. After a few long moments of unbearable silence, Tatsumi brushed his hand against the chemist's shoulder uncertainly,

"Watari?" That damned smile was fixed back in place when he turned to look at him again,

"It's nothing." Tatsumi frowned. _The hell it's nothing._ "Anyway, you wanted to know what happened. Right. Well, after getting attacked by a bajillion of those things Mr. Big-bad-and-Gruesome himself decides to get off his hiney and take care of me himself." The next words were whispered and Tatsumi had to lean in, in order to catch them. "He wasn't kidding when he said he made Sagatanasu look like a weakling..." The secretary's eyes widened.

"He _knew_ Sagata--"

"Knew _and_ insulted. With good merit too." Tatsumi let out a breath that sounded like a hiss. No wonder Watari was practically dead when he came in!

"...How? How did you..? I mean, when..with Saga it took--" Watari smiled thinly.

"Don't flatter me. I got lucky. One, I wasn't possessed. Two, he underestimated me. And three," he paused, "Three, I got lucky. Hey Tatsumi." The older Shinigami blinked in surprise.

"What?"

"Did you know I could summon things out of drawings made with my own blood?" The statement was inappropriately paired with grin that made Tatsumi feel a bit uncomfortable.

"Uh...no?" A few more teeth showed through--Watari's sense of humor was _so_ black sometimes,

"Guess what? I can."

Tatsumi suddenly felt ill.

* * *

_Meifu had a pretty bird..._

* * *

Later, after their conversation had ended, and Watari had elaborated a little more on how he'd dispatched the demon, Tatsumi was back in his office. He was industriously working, catching up on the paperwork he'd neglected while tending to his sometime-partner. There was a knock on his door and Konoe came in. Tatsumi put down his pen and looked up respectfully.

"You need something sir?" A glance at the clock said it was and hour or so till the start the work day, nearly two hours and forty-three minutes since he last visited Watari (not that he was keeping close track, or anything. That was simply a rough estimate).

"How's our boy?" Konoe wasn't one for a lot preamble. Tatsumi's eyes flicked to the direction of the infirmary before answering,

"He's woken up." The chief nodded,

"Yes, he was up briefly before you came in. Had a little bit of an episode." Tatsumi felt his brows twist in worry,

"Episode..?"

"Nothing too serious. About what I expected really. He woke up, stared at the ceiling for a few moments, remembered what happened and threw up. Fairly standard after a case like this." Tatsumi's throat seemed a little tight for some reason. Then again, he also remembered doing similar things after particularly horrendous cases.

"Yes. I think the demon may have said some things to upset Watari-san as well. He still seems...weary." The secretary shied away from using the words 'weak' or 'wounded.' "We should give Watari-san time Konoe. I think Wakaba and Terazuma can handle the Kinki sector in addition to their own for awhile." The older man nodded, satisfied,

"Good. I was going to suggest that myself." He sighed. Tatsumi frowned. That sigh never bade well for anyone. It was the sigh of 'oh gods I hate being the bearer of bad news.'

"What is it?"

"The King wishes to speak to Watari as soon as possible. Probably later today."

"_What?_" Konoe blinked at Tatsumi's unexpected shout. Biting his lip, the secretary reined in his surprise and anger. "What for? Watari is still recovering! Can't he have some time before reliving it again for Enma?" Konoe pressed his lips together in a line of irritation.

"He should be so lucky. I only just heard this, but the souls that went missing were greater than we first estimated."

"That's not Watari's fault," Tatsumi instantly countered. Konoe sighed again,

"I know that, but...Those souls Tatsumi. They're _gone_, as in gone for good." Tatsumi's breath caught. Was _this_ what was bothering Watari? "It's.. not a small number. Twenty-three Tatsumi. The souls of twenty-three people have up and been destroyed." Dear gods! Watari...

"He... he didn't say anything." Konoe nodded sympathetically,

"I don't blame him. Poor kid, he's probably trying not to think about it. Well, I would appreciate it if you would give him the heads up for me. The king said he would send his messengers later this afternoon." Tatsumi fought back the urge to sigh. He really didn't want to contemplate the chief's reasons for ordering him to do so. Though it was probably mostly cowardice and a desire to avoid being the messenger of unfortunate news twice in the same day.

"Of course chief." That didn't mean Tatsumi wanted to either.

The thought that both of them shared, that Watari might be forced to ascend, was left unsaid.

* * *

_With feathers bright and yellow..._

* * *

There was a polite rapping on the door to the infirmary. Watari groaned. If it didn't require rolling over and the shifting of muscles not quite reconnected yet, he would have buried himself deeper under the covers and hid his head under the pillow. The door opened, "Watari?" The man in question groaned. "Watari are you up?"

"Mmfph. Regrettably. What brings you here again Tatsumi?" The secretary skirted the question,

"How are you feeling?" A half-shrug,

"I dunno.." He looked at Tatsumi critically then smiled cheekily, "Will my answer impact the amount of paperwork I have to do this week?"

"_Watari!_" A few chuckles escaped the man on the bed and he waved a hand,

"Sorry, sorry. I feel like crap, and I think some of my muscles are still reforming and attaching themselves to my ligaments."

"Ah. I hate to inform you of this, but unless you can coax yourself into unconsciousness again for a couple days, Enma would like to see you later this afternoon." Watari seemed stunned for a moment, but then he sighed.

"Yeah, lack of a hamstring wouldn't be considered adequate grounds for delaying interrogation one whole day. That sadistic slave driver." Tatsumi drew in a breath at Watari's bold words. He looked around, and up at the ceiling for good measure--just in case the King had actually heard the insulting tone. When nothing happened to either of them Tatsumi looked back at Watari, who looked thoroughly miserable. It made something in Tatsumi's heartstrings twinge a little.

"I don't know if Konoe or I told you... but you were out for two and a half solid days." The secretary could see the golden brows shoot up in surprise,

"Really? Huh. The old man couldda told me that earlier," he paused doing some mental calculations. "Well, guess it's time to face the music. When're his messengers gonna be here?" Tatsumi walked over and ended up sitting beside him again--an action that he knew was not conductive to finishing his overdue forms and reports. Still, this was considerably more important. Tatsumi used his smoothest, softest tone with the scientist.

"Not until later this afternoon." Watari looked at him, somewhat puzzled at his continued presence. _Why are you still here? Don't you have budgets to balance and missions to assign?_

_...And why are you looking at me like that? Stop it._ He could see concern emanating from Tatsumi's eyes, from somewhere deep within their ocean blue depths. There was something else too, other subtle emotions that faintly churned on his employer's face, creating slight lines around his lips and brow. What were they? Sympathy, fear, unease? _Stop analyzing him Yutaka. You'll give yourself a headache._ Tatsumi spoke again after several minutes of silence, using the same gentle yet slightly detached tone, "...They know about the souls Watari." Here the secretary (finally) averted his gaze. "Konoe told me this morning..." Watari fought the urge to snort. Of course they knew about the souls! Twenty-three souls don't just bite the dust and go unnoticed. A horrible thought struck Watari and he paled. Tatsumi and Konoe didn't know--they couldn't know. If they did they wouldn't be talking to him. Watari bit his lip, half sitting up.

He felt sick again. He suddenly knew why Tatsumi had come. He wanted to know, he wanted to ask. He wanted to assure himself that it wasn't Watari's fault. Tatsumi was looking at him again. _Please don't look at me Seiichiro... I don't want to see your revulsion when you realize just what I've done._ A tear slid down his cheek and he cursed himself for the weakness. "Watari?" A hand reached out to brush it away, but Watari intercepted it with his,

"Don't! Don't... touch me Sei--ImeanTatsumi." He released the hand quickly, unwilling to admit to himself that he missed the pleasant sparkle he felt at the contact. _And please don't look at me anymore!_ He turned away from the gentle eyes that were (unknowingly) making him feel so impure.

Tatsumi went rigid, feeling equal parts shocked and hurt. After a moment he looked down at his knees and apologized, "I'm sorry Watari-san. I didn't mean to cross any boundaries." The secretary cursed inwardly. This is why he never pursued relationships, he never knew the proper protocol or the rules of acceptable behavior!

Watari-_san_, when was the last time the secretary had called him that? It had taken so long, so much cajoling to get him to stop! Watari turned his hand over in his lap, much to his chagrin, his left arm was still pretty much immobilized. "No, Tatsumi don't be.. I.. I," damn his throat going tight! "I just don't.. didn't want anyone to know that I.." The hand was on his shoulder again and the automatic response--while well intended--only twisted the knife in his conscience more,

"Watari-san, It's not your fault."

"Yes it is!" This was said more explosively than he intended. Watari cut off the other man's denial even before it started, "It _is_ my fault Tatsumi! It was _my_ fuda and _my_ stupid mistake that did them in! There! Are you satisfied!" He was looking at him again, he didn't want to. Watari didn't want to see Tatsumi's expression of shocked horror turn into contempt. _He_ was the one shocked however, when his expression softened into one of sympathy, and Tatsumi's hands came up to brush away the tears that the scientist hadn't noticed were falling.

"Oh Watari..." Watari bit his lip and tried to stifle his sobs. He hated crying. It made him look terrible and his eyes felt itchy for hours afterwards. With a slight wrench Watari threw his torso at Tatsumi's, testing the limits of the other man's compassion.

He let out a gasp when he found himself wrapped tightly in a two armed grip that pulled uncomfortably at some of his more tender wounds. "Ah-! Tatsumi, ribs! Shoulder!" The squeeze instantly relaxed, and Tatsumi looked utterly ashamed of himself,

"I'm sorry! I should have--" The scientist interrupted him with a great sniff,

"Here, give me your arm." Watari clung tightly to one of Tatsumi's arms with his operational limb, and buried his face against Tatsumi's collarbone. The other man's hand came to rest softly on Watari's other shoulder; moving his palm up and down in a soothing motion as Watari sobbed his guilt out.

"It was s-such an old trick! I-I can't believe I fell for it!" Tatsumi kept his tone soothing and uncritical--it would be good for Watari to practice addressing these questions first here and now _now_, as opposed to later from one of those unfeeling bastards from Judgment or Interrogation. If he had a breakdown now, he wouldn't be so emotionally charged later, in addition to not having the energy, to crack in front of the King.

"What did he do Watari?" Watari sniffed and rubbed his nose against Tatsumi's coat, leaving a smear of mucus. The scientist promised himself he'd pay for Tatsumi's dry cleaning bill.

"Uh, sorry.. He.. he concealed them in the birds..."

"The magpies?" Watari nodded, hating the saline irritating his eyes,

"Yeah.. according to folklore m'gpies carry a drop of the devil's blood under their tongue..'Course that's only true if'n they're in league with a demon or not, else we'd have way more problems don'cha know.. but still I.. I'd forgotten that and.. His blood..." Apparently when he was upset, Watari's accent went _extremely_ Osakan.

"The demon's?" Watari shook his head,

"N-no, otherwise I would have sensed it.. I wouldda figur'd it out sooner. They had _Morningstar's_ blood under their tongues.." Watari shuddered, instinctively making Tatsumi feel even more protective. Tatsumi wiggled his fingers slightly, as they started to tingle their protest at receiving less blood than normal.

Watari's voice was so small and broken in the room, almost lost among his ragged breathing. "He... he could do things with that blood..E-even after the b-birds were d-were de-oh gods!" Tatsumi's arm was crushed tighter, but he didn't really mind. He let his hand reach up and stroke Watari's hair.

Watari was shaking now, "And then he.. he.. he could m-manipulate the bl-l-lood like you d-do your shadows.. It was--and they--h-hurt so bad--It was.." Tatsumi bent down his head to whisper in the other man's ear,

"Don't think about it. It's over Watari." He felt Watari nod and give one last shudder before scrubbing at his eyes, which had run out of tears--or at least tears that weren't made of a painful amount of salt. "Listen to me Watari," he waited until the other man looked up at him to continue, "It is _not_ your fault. It was the demon who hid their presence from you, it was the demon who stole them in the first place. It _used_ you destroy evidence. He was countng on you to defend yourself. If nothing else, it must have made him weaker, right?" Watari thought for a minute, then reluctantly nodded.

"You were doing your _job_ Watari. Bad things happen, but sometimes it turns out for the better. You stopped the demon from stealing dozens more souls! If you hadn't stopped him, who knows how long he would have evaded Ministry action..?" The blonde formerly known as 'genki' did not seem convinced,

"But I..I should have been able to..."

"Watari, a genius you may be, you cannot expect yourself to know everything, and especially not all the time. A demon with thousands years more experience than you is bound to have a few tricks up his sleeve you don't know about. You did what you could in the situation." Watari stared down at his less than functioning body.

"Yeah, maybe.. but will the King of Hades see it like that?" Tatsumi's immediate reaction was to blather out, 'of course he will!' but that thought made him pause. There was a tense silence. The King was usually pretty fair, and sometimes downright lienient, but he would also have random streaks of being unpleasant and unreasonable to the extreme. Tatsumi got up quietly with a promise,

"I will make him see it like that." Watari was too wrapped up in his thoughts and worries to hear the soft vow made by the secretary. Tatsumi looked back once at his friend before he left the room. _And if he doesn't, then he's going to have to accept my resignation too--whether he likes it or not._

* * *

_And slender legs, upon my word..._

* * *

It was funny, but people just seemed to _know_ upon entering the building that Watari had woken up--and also that he was to be going on trial in front of Enma later--only the gods knew how word (and confidential word) got around so fast. People stopped by the infirmary before the day started, when they had a free minute, or during their break.

Even some of the seldom present Shinigami managed to make an appearence. This included Chidsiru of Okinawa--who also worked alone and could sympathize with Watari's situation more readily, Saya and Yuma from Hokkaido--even though it was snowed in, a few faces from Security--for some reason Kazuma and Nonomiya had each taken a post gaurding Watari's lab and the door to the infirmary, and the Kanawa sisters--despite being mortal enemies of the department during the annual archery contest. (The Count sent Watson over from the Hall of Candles with his note, since his duties--and a restraining order from Enma on Tsuzuki's behalf--wouldn't permit the Count to leave the Hall without special notice given. Watari was rather touched when the tiny, once-British gardener gave him a small potted plant. It was cute--until it tried to bite his fingers off. Watari wisely put it on the far end of the beside table. In poorly written Katakana, a tag attatched to the plant proclaimed it as being 'Little Audry.')

Though they all knew about it, no one who came mentioned the trial.

Just as they all seemed to know about his situation, they all seemed to instinctively know the tabboo: _do not mention the trial_.

Tsuzuki probably got closest on that count, but his anxiety prevented it without the help of Hisoka, or more accurately Hisoka's fists. Instead the man had chatted aimiably for a few minutes, and then rocked back and forth on his feet uncomfortably until Hisoka ushered them out.

Actually that was a lie. Terazuma _certainly _would have mentioned it straight off, had it not been for an index card Wakaba supplied and a kick to the shins anytime he showed signs of deviation from the proffred script. That was just as well. Had Terazuma been allowed to speak freely he would have probably said unhelpful things like, "So are you leaving us soon or what?" or, "So we're looking over your district, that gonna be permanent?" Something like that, except with more cursing no doubt. Though his comments sounded cold, they weren't meant (er, Watari hoped anyways) as personal insults. It was just that; meaning they _weren't personal_. The man didn't have time to develop relashionships with other people, was not adept at the fine art of tact and discretion, and was possesed by a Shikigami with a temper shorter than his partner.

Still, the effort had been made, and somewhere in there the intention lurked. (Somewhere between the black-furred hell-hound, case work, mystery novels, and martial arts obsession, no doubt.) Watari was almost sure of it.

* * *

_He was a pretty fellow..._

* * *

After everyone had stopped in at least once, Watari was left alone and in sinking spirits. With his (comparably) good arm he pulled out Tatsumi's necktie.

He wondered if some sort of cane or walking stick could be procured for him? Otherwise there really was no way in h--well there was no way he was going to be able to get to his trial if he didn't! He looked at the clock and sighed. Ten o' clock. There was still probably about three hours before the messengers would come.

* * *

_The sweetest notes he always sung..._

* * *

Tatsumi stopped by twice, once during his morning rounds, and another while on his way to refill his coffee cup--which was really rather questionable, as alibis go. The coffee maker was in the break room, which was in the complete opposite direction of the infirmary. Watari made his request for a cane or a crutch and Tatsumi promised him that it would be taken care of. To use his exact words Tatsumi said: "I give you my word it will be taken care of," which Watari found both amusing and a tad creepy. _That man needs to get out of the office more often--or laid. Or both._ (And, in case there was some sort of confusion on the subject, not that there was, Watari was decidedly _not_ the one making lewd advances upon his superior in his daydream. There were plenty of other willowy, yellow-haired people around. To reiterate: Watari was _in no way_ imagining screwing Tatsumi's brains out.)

This continued not to happen for another half hour or so, until Tatsumi came in with a cane--the kind that have an arm brace attatched to them--and some clean clothes. (Thank goodness for his spare sets in the lab!) The secretary's mouth was set in a grim line. Watari looked up, "I take it they're coming?" Tatsumi nodded,

"I can untie and change your bandages first if you like..." The scientist sniffed experimentally at one on his left wrist--lifting the dead weight up to his face to do so.

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea. I'd do it myself but, it's kinda hard to do one-handed. Sorry." His boss shook his head,

"After all the times you've patched us up, it's only fair that someone else do the same for you." Tatsumi redressed his wounds with flawless professionalism. And if either of them felt a tingling warmth in the pit of their stomach, they studiously avoided thinking about it. Normally the light pink on Tatsumi's cheeks would have greatly amused the other man, but the gravity of the situation forstalled any teasing on the subject. (And not because his own cheeks were warm, because they _weren't_.) Watari stared at the clothes neatly folded on the end of the bed--dear lord, had Tatsumi ironed them? (He would not have put it past the secretary to have a clothes press concealed somewhere in his office) Because they had certainly not come out of his drawers in such a pristine and orderly state! However, another realization came to him, and judging by the ever increasing redness on Tatsumi's face, it occured to the other man too. For some reason the undressing of Watari before hadn't been as much of an issue, since it had to be done in order to treat his wounds. It happened a lot in their line of work. It was something you got used to...

_Fuck, I hate being so dependant. When do I get the use of my limbs back?_ ...or not.

"Ah... I guess.. you get to help me change..." The awkwardness, combined with the ever opressive sense of dread in the air, was practically unbearable. In a silence tinged with fear and other strangely heated emotions, Tatsumi managed to help Watari into a clean set of clothes.

It was a decidedly different experience when Watari was awake for the proccedings, as opposed to catatonic as he had been before. It was very different to see the man's muscles bend and strain and squeeze themselves as Watari moved. It was also very, very distracting.

Finally, when Watari had on a shirt and pants--Tatsumi, blushing hard enough to probably cause bruising, having to help with the button on the fly--Watari broke the silence. "Go get a brace or a splint and some more bandages." Tatsumi complied, bringing back a knee brace and a pair of splints, complete with a roll of gauze bandages. Under Watari's direction, the chair was moved over and the inoperable foot was placed upon it. With help from Tatsumi, Watari arranged a fairly tight and servicable binding for his right leg. Enough so that he wouldn't totally jar it out of place while walking--the last thing he needed was for his ligaments to heal in crooked. He inspected it again for good measure and held his hand out for the cane. Tatsumi handed it to him,

"So I guess now we wait huh?" The secretary nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

The wait wasn't actually that long, but it felt like it had been forever. Kazuma rapped the door to let them know the escort service was coming. "Help me stand up." Seiichiro looked down, as he suppourted the blonde's weight as he got his cane situated. Tatsumi suddenly realized just how pale Watari was, however this was more than the slightly-anemic look he'd been sporting for the last couple days. This was on top of that--turning the man's skin into an unbecoming mixture of ash and yellow, making him look jaundiced. He squeezed Watari's shoulder, noting his friend's quaking body, though quite honestly, that probably had more to do with trying to stand. Watari scooted forward out of his grip as the door opened. Tatsumi didn't pursue him, as much as he was tempted to. He knew. He understood.

Watari needed to appear as strong as he could right now.

The Shinigami bowed stiffly to the masked, hawk-faced attendants.

They made no sign of noticing his gesture. They merely pointed at him with a single word, "Come." Ignoring the intensely uncomfortable silence, Watari attempted to be his usual high spiried self.

"Ready when you are, Beaky!" Tatsumi succeded in suppressing a noise into a soft gasp--which was better than the half-chuckle, half-sob lodged in his throat. _He shouldn't have to face this right now.. not so soon.. not so soon after. He shouldn't have to face it at all..._

Slowly, Watari limped along heavily, following the men(?), who seemed to glide along at an incredibly indolent pace _all the time_, Watari's mobility situation aside.

Tatsumi followed them, a respectful distance behind. As the escort and Watari walked through the office with terrible slowness, Tatsumi suddenly noticed everyone was lining the hallway, standing in the doorways, leaning on their desks, fanned out in front of the copier. Not a word was said, no sound apart from the soft 'tamp' of the cane, the drag of Watari's foot across the carpet, and the man's own laboured breathing. Tsuzuki and Hisoka were there too, the former looking about ready to cry, and Hisoka? The little empath appeared solemn, and actually a tad upset. Then Tatsumi noticed that the boy's fists were balled and trembling. This could not be a pleasant experience for one with his powers. The secretary just felt... lost. Like he was suddenly drifting away and drowning slowly, step by painful step.

Though underneath all that, he couldn't help but feel slightly proud of Watari, who seemed to bear the invisible friction better than everyone else. Then his stomach dropped, and his heart followed the plummet shortly after, _Shit!_ This might be one of the last, maybe _the_ last time he ever saw Watari..why did that knowledge make him want to curl up under his desk?

When they at last reached the door, one of the attendants opened it for the Kyoto man. Watari paused at the threshold and pivoted on his heel suddenly. He cracked an enourmous grin--the largest one ever seen on the man--and held up his hand in a wave, "See you all later!" Dear gods, one could _see_ the hearts floating above him in midair. The awkwardness of his statement, the sheer contrast of tone and the context, the loud, random, absurd, magnificent _gall_ of it all shocked some laughter out of quite a few people. He turned and left, the attendant slammming the door behind them, the sound echoing through the office like a tomb.

Wakaba sniffed audibly, and about five low conversations started, the air was still tense and uncomfortable--clever as Watari was, he could not hope to dispel _all_ of the tension in the room.

He could hear mutters and a few half-hearted bets on Watari's chances. ('What are his odds you think?' 'I think he'd be more pissed at us for starting a betting pool without him' 'He couldn't bet in this one even if he wanted to that's cheating!' 'That didn't stop you the one time...' 'Hey don't bring that up again! I want in on this!' and so on and so forth.) Tatsumi couldn't even bring himself to silence them with one of his fearsome glares. The gathering dispersed, trudging away almost as though wading through quicksand. Or maybe time was only going that slow for the secretary.

Tatsumi swallowed. As if in a daze, he made his way back to his office.

Without conscious thought or effort, Tatsumi's body opened the drawer, and his hand took out the hair tie within, clutching it tightly in his fist, making his knuckles go white.

For the first time in fifty years, Tatsumi did not even _contemplate_ the paperwork sitting in front of him.

_And now we wait..._

* * *

_So where ever the cage was hung..._

* * *

Hours passed, agonizingly slow. There was a charge in the air all over the Ministry, everyone could feel it. Tatsumi wished that it was a better gauge for the King's mood. Air like this could mean anything from, 'Hey, You, bitch, off my planet!' to 'YAY MINT CHOCOLATE CHIP PISTACHIO ICE CREAM!' Sometimes it signaled boredom, so Enma let his frustration and irritation charge the air, in order to stir up...

"BASTARD!"

"I SWEAR TERAZUMA IF YOU SAY THAT AGAIN I'LL KILL YOU! I WILL--!" Tatsumi cringed. This had been going on for awhile. Somehow, Hajime and Tsuzuki were even angrier, more barbarous in their words than usual, and yet no blows had been exchanged so far. Tatsumi cringed at some of the phrases flying through the air. In a way this was somehow worse, more corrosive than their usual fights.

But what a paradox!

How could their intentions to kill and hurt be stronger than ever, and yet not a single punch thrown? Not so much as a single fuda. He heard the younger voices of Wakaba and Hisoka, begging, cajoling, pleading, and basically threatening their respective partners. And just at the moment, when the onlookers expected them to start making good their promises, the door flung open with a magnificent **_BANG!_** (Making everyone jump at least a foot. Saya and Yuma were later pried off the ceiling in order to be sent back to Hokkaido.)

"Yo guys! What'd I miss?" The blonde was smiling widely. Tsuzuki suddenly smiled and almot glomped the scientist back into a bed-ridden state before Hisoka stopped him, via grabbing the back of his shirt. Watari's grin grew wider, "Nice save there Hisoka. Thanks." Tsuzuki decided to make a grand announcement by shouting at the top of his lungs, (as if anyone _needed_ an announcment after an enterence like his,) "HEEEEEEY GUYS WATARI IS BACK!" Huh, was that the great secret to the lightning fast gossip-vine? What a let-down.

Casually heads poked in from various offices or from above whatever they were doing.

And they pretended as if they hadn't just been sitting around for hours, waiting for the King's decision.

That was the way things worked here. If one wanted change, you had to fight for it, tooth and nail, because the rest of the Underworld would go right on as they had been doing for the last hundred years before you came along, thank you very much.

And of course you never spoke about near death experiences, or near ascensions out in the open with just anyone.

So again, they all feigned ignorance as to why Watari had been and gone. (Some went so far as to pretend not to notice he had been gone.)

But you didn't need to be an empath to feel the curiosity in the air.

It hovered around behind the solitary, limping man, in the inquizitive looks directed at his back. At the archly phrased questions that hid the concern.

But.. they just _wanted to know_, a good bit of gossip, maybe or maybe not a good excuse for a party. Tatsumi's curiosity stemmed from an actual _need_ to know the outcome.

So after Watari passed his office (he seemed to be hobbling along faster) with a brief, fleeting smile, Tatsumi gave him about ten or fifteen minutes before he went to start questioning the man.

The hair tie was hastily stuffed into his trouser pocket.

* * *

_They stood to hear Watari..._

* * *

When he got to the lab, the engineer was prodding his left arm critically, systematically. The fingers suddenly twitched and Watari seemed satisfied. Tatsumi observed him for a few minutes before asking the dreaded question, "How did it go?" Watari didn't seem surprised by his presence. The fingers twitched again. He shrugged,

"It went..." Tatsumi bit his lip and tried not to sound nauseatingly hopeful,

"You're still here..." He wasn't sure he succeded. Watari made a soft noise,

"Good observation there Seiichiro," his name was laden with sarcasam, "It's good to see that forty plus years behind a desk have not ruined your capabilities for working out in the feild." Tatsumi blinked and then, because he really didn't know what else to do with that statement, ignored it.

"So you're not being punished then?" Watari's grunt implied that he thought the ruling was pretty damn ambiguous and not at all conclusive. Most would say 'no' but the scientist wasn't so sure it was that cut and dry. Hell, (cringe) he _knew_ it wasn't that cut and dry.

"Not for now, you can thank the old man for that.. And because they need me alive for their stupid Mother project. I'll probably be ascended the second I get my memories back." The words were out before Tatsumi could stop them,

"It isn't like you to be so pessimistic." Watari spared him a scathing glance that said, 'well _excuse_ me for being depressed once or twice a century--I'm a shinigami damnit! I have a _right_ to angst!'

"Yeah well, that _was_ optimism. Worst case scenario I'll be sent to Lucifer and be made into one of his demon lackeys. Or maybe a footstool on hands and knees." Tatsumi could not contain his horrified gasp.

"Watari!"

"...I didn't mean to say that. Ignore it."

"But Wata--"

"I said ignore it!" The kagetsukai's shadow was twisting, writhing as though in agony.

"Watari, what did that demon say to you to make you like this?" _I don't like seeing you like this!_

"Tatsumi! Please! I don't.. I just don't want to think about it. Please.. just..let me bury it for awhile." Tatsumi stood there, one hand reaching out for the engineer's elbow, but not quite daring to touch.

"...Tari," There was a longish pause. Finally Tatsumi's hand dropped and he whispered an apology before making the pilgrimage back to his desk.

Strange, Watari was going to stay, shouldn't he be relieved? How had he ended up upseting the other man? Why was everything so damn complicated?

The secretary felt a serious need for a cuddle--perfferably with the purloined labcoat.

And the fact that he actually thought out the word 'cuddle' made him cringe.

Back in his lab Watari sighed. He hadn't meant to lash out at Tatsumi like that. He began the painstaking process of crouching down on the futon. He was so tired...And his leg was sore, he could still feel small fibers twisting themselves, like thread spinning on a spindle, cords forming and braiding, knitting together. His left arm started having sharp, stabbing pains, which was a welcome relief from the nothing-ness he'd been feeling/not feeling up till now. He yawned and curled up on the bed, too tired to readjust but the most serious of strained muscles.

Tomorrow. He would go find Tatsumi tomorrow.

------  
I like the idea of Konoe and Watari calling each other "Kid/kiddo" and "Old man" :snicker:

Watari's so popular! x3 Everyone comes to see him! Everyone! XDD

The plant was from Watson, by the way. He wanted to give Watari his encouragment too! x3 The information on Magpies as a totem creature was stolen and paraphrased from a website, but the couple others I glanced at seemed to concur...  
GAH WTF is up with all the agnst? It's like.. I was so trying hard for fluff and then.. it got angstified... :glares at a certian scientist: Wa-_taaaaa-riiiiii!_ :goes to hunt him down: XDD


	4. Black is White and White is Black

Okay, I must apologize that this took so long. Life got hectic for me, and it's the time of year where I tend to crash to some degree. That and my muse went a little AWOL, but now she is finished:DDD Except for the epilouge wich will be up later as soon as I write it. (I have that part all written down, just needs to get from my head to the computer :D

This chapter contains the much awaited FLUFF!! x33

-------

Watari apologized to Tatsumi the next day. He said that his stand-offish behavior had nothing to do with the older man, but simply that Watari had well, issues to deal with. And the trial with Lord Enma had been really taxing earlier. So let's just forget the whole thing ever happened? 'Kaythanksbye! And he'd left before Tatsumi could even accept the apology--or tell him that he had nothing to apologize for.

And that was that.

And suddenly Watari was incredibly scarce to be found.

_

* * *

One for sorrow...

* * *

_

He stayed in his lab and rarely ventured out into the common room--and then only for coffee. Whenever spoken to at these times, he would be his usual pleasant self, only the conversations were short, abridged.

And then he would disappear back into his lab for the rest of the afternoon.

The only good thing about this was that it seemed Watari was normal enough to continue making explosions on a regular basis.

Until, that is, the more observant in the office noticed just how violent and frequent these explosions were.

_

* * *

Two for Joy..

* * *

_

It wasn't the _angry_, overly destructive explosions of unbridled rage. Nor were they the outbursts of sudden, overwhelming depression. These were explosions of 'I need to stop myself from thinking about certain things and I don't know any other way _how_', explosions of 'this is the only way I can keep myself relatively sane and occupied.'

So Watari spent a lot of his time cleaning, and chatting with Tsuzuki (and sometimes Hisoka) who often came by.

Tatsumi went there, but he always stopped short, he didn't know what he would say.

So instead, he turned back and grabbed whatever trinket of Watari's he could as he made his way back to his office. Cursing himself for cowardice and ineptitude all the while.

If nothing else _that_ was a pattern that had not changed.

_

* * *

Three for a girl..

* * *

_

They pretended not to feel or want each other's presence

They pretended that they were satisfied with scraps of paper and little, insignificant mementos. And they were so wrapped up in their pretendings they didn't hear the whispers behind their backs.

"Ne.. Hisoka. Don'cha think Tatsumi's been acting weird lately?" A sigh of patient suffering. Years of experience had proven that unless he humored Tsuzuki and discussed the matter with him, he wouldn't shut up about it.

"How do you mean?"

"Well..haven't you noticed the way he just..picks things up now?" Hisoka returned to his form,

"He was always a neat freak." Tsuzuki frowned,

"That's not what I meeeeeeeeeaaaaan!" A derisive snort shortly followed this,

"Yes I know what you mean. You'd have to be blind not to notice it. Watari too." The oldest resident Shinigami perked up at this,

"See! I knew it! We should--"

"_No_ we _shouldn't_. Leave it alone. Don't interfere, it's not your business."

"But--!"

"No. Watari has enough to deal with right now, let alone one of your well-meaning, but harebrained schemes."

"Bu-" "_No_." And that was that. Tsuzuki pouted and then got bored of the subject, seeing as he hadn't gotten his way. Then he proceeded to whine about the injustice of his paperwork and would Hisoka please-oh-please help him finish it, just this once? Hisoka just shook his head and called his partner an idiot, but it sounded strangely affectionate.

_

* * *

Four for a boy...

* * *

_

Yes, they went back to how it was before--rather to the annoyance of the few who had noticed the change. Discreetly collecting things associated with the other, but now, somehow the objects didn't hold as much _warmth_ they had before. They didn't have the same promise of contentment. Whenever Watari thought about the tie sitting on his bedside table at home, he simply remembered that he had no one to come home to. When Tatsumi curled up to go to sleep, holding Watari's labcoat in his arms, he was only struck by how empty it was.

Suddenly the objects were painful little reminders of what they did not have.

And yet, they still couldn't stop.  
_

* * *

Five for a loss...

* * *

_

Tatsumi was sure he was missing a tie, but where did it go? He really hoped he wouldn't have to sue his launderer over this, lawyers were so expensive, and civil trials took forever to arrange and go through...Alright, maybe suing his laundry service would be a bit much, but dammit--he _liked_ that tie!

He sighed with resignation, and reminded himself to write an angry letter about the missing tie--which had probably been eaten by their dryer as opposed to actually haven been stolen by an employee.

He promptly forgot his promise as he got to work that morning. The numbers across the page and in his head driving out any frivolous thoughts about ties that were suddenly absent without leave.

_

* * *

Six for a keep...

* * *

_

"Tatsumi?" The man looked up to see the blonde-haired, recently-turned hermit, leaning against the frame of his door.

"Yes Watari?" The man shifted slightly, as though embarrassed.

"I ah.. I need more money for the lab." This caused the secretary to blink. Strange. Watari was usually so shameless when it came to asking for more money. (_How_ many mornings did Watari simply sweep in and sit on his desk before asking for a pay raise?) He shrewdly observed the scientist,

"Are you feeling alright?"

"Yes of course! I just need some more money. Is there any extra?"

"That depends on how much you want and what it's for." Watari bit his lip, he was almost whining in his evasiveness,

"It's not a lot..."

"What do you need the money for Watari?" Tatusmi's voice was firm. He regretted his question when he noticed pain in the golden eyes. (Damn it, it wasn't his fault he needed to ask! These things had to be catalogued, it was his job.) Watari rocked his torso back and forth a little uncomfortably,

"Well I--" He stopped. Tatsumi almost didn't hear his next statement, "It's just that I am running out of labcoats..." He looked up at Tatsumi, eyes pleading him not to pursue the matter but...

"I thought you had at least a dozen of them Watari?" He tried to keep his voice gentle and free of both paranoia and accusation. (Oh Gods he hoped that the scientist hadn't missed the one he'd taken. He really, really needed to return that!) Watari bit his lip.

"I know, I mean, I did.. but they..." His face twisted, as though he _hated_ this admission, "_they keep turning black._" Tatsumi felt his mouth go slightly agape. Watari swallowed and tried to continue in a normal tone, "I mean, from all the explosions and stuff. They just get so charred and the soot and stuff just won't come out..." He had to pause for a moment to collect himself, "So I figured, since they were getting kinda ratty, I'd get some new ones, you know..." Tatsumi felt his heart twist.

"Come in Watari." He did so, still looking rather uncertain. "Shut the door." Watari again did as he was asked, a little wary and puzzled. Tatsumi gestured for him to come closer. He stood as Watari walked over to his desk.

The blonde suddenly found himself in a tight, but welcome, embrace. Desperate for contact, his arms reached around to return the hug. Part of him (albeit a very small part) wished Tatsumi wouldn't though; it made it rather difficult not to cry, and he'd done far too much of that lately. The budget master was whispering fiercely in his ear, "Of course you can have some money for some new labcoats Watari." The Osakan nodded against his shoulder and muttered back,

"I-Thanks." He expected the secretary to let him go then, but he didn't--and he wasn't complaining. He blinked back the gathering wetness in his eyes and managed not to start bawling. Tatsumi just held him and whispered his name once more, giving him warmth and comfort in abundance. And Watari's mind blissfully stopped thinking about things in terms of black and white--of glossy opalescence. He was suddenly no longer faced with a panic attack as his labcoats refused to shed their black and white plumage. In Tatsumi's arms, his nightmares of black-spattered white were the furthest thing from his mind, and he could only notice how well they seemed to _fit_, now that his arms worked and we was free to hug and be hugged. They stood for several minutes, and then awkwardly Tatsumi released him, holding him at arms length, hands on his shoulders. He peered intensely at Watari with his dark blue eyes. Honey eyes crinkled pleasantly confused,

"Uh, not that I mind.. but.. What was that for?"

"You looked like you needed it." Watari opened his mouth to protest, or perhaps to deny, before he closed it and thought for another moment. He chuckled,

"Yeah, I guess I did."

"Are you all right now?" A nod. "Good. I'll transfer some money over to your lab later today." Watari smiled at him, knees almost buckling in relief--relief and not the sudden absence of support. A voice stopped him as he made to open the door. "If you ever need..." The words here were left unsaid, simply because the words 'hug' and comfort' had been out of use so long they were now foreign to his tongue. Tatsumi frowned and tried again, "I'm always here."

A small smile worked its way past Watari's lips before he left.

_

* * *

Seven for a secret...

* * *

_

Another week or so went by, and Watari was still behaving like a recluse. However, the explosions, while more frequent, had lessened in magnitude.

There was a knock at his door. Any irritation at having the afternoon finances interrupted went away when he saw Watari standing in his doorway, looking lost and confused. "Come in Watari." The scientist closed the door without being asked this time and hastily walked over to Tatsumi. The brunette's arms were expectantly open, waiting to envelop him and Watari readily fell into their warmth. He smiled wryly from the crook of his employer's shoulder,

"This is becoming a bad habit, isn't it?" A shrug,

"No...I don't mind." They could both tell he was trying too hard to sound unaffected, like he didn't care. That he was trying to sound like the world _wouldn't_ come to an end if Watari ceased to... stopped touching him.

"Sorry. I don't mean to make you stop.. working. You can go ahead if you like.." Tatsumi scribbled something down on the paper he was working on, finishing a string of numbers before he forgot them entirely, and then set the pen down.

"That won't be necessary."

There was stillness between them then. A monstrous, huge beast of things dearly wanted and yet unsaid. A silent creature made of sounds unspoken. Watari let him go after a few moments with a rushed, 'Gottagetbacktothelab! Thanks!'

This left a secretary who was suddenly cold, and confused, wondering if perhaps the visit had been a figment of his (overactive) imagination.

Were it not for the fact that he suddenly had a note with a complex chemical formula on it, he would have been inclined to believe this.

_

* * *

Old and dark and deep...

* * *

It was a little over a week before Watari came to his office again, shutting the door softly behind him. This visit was briefer than the previous one, but the intensity in which Watari burrowed himself in Tatsumi's arms was greater._

Tatsumi was left to wonder why he even let the man go.

The next day, Tatsumi left his office around eleven, and made his way to the lab. Watari was fiddling with a staple remover in a somewhat despondent manner. Without explanation, Tatsumi walked up behind him and held him.

There were no more explosions that week.

The next week, Tatsumi did it again. (Come to think of it.. that staple remover last time somewhat resembled one of his that was missing...)

And despite the fact that he was really feeling much better, Watari slipped of to Tatsumi's office in the middle of the day.

_

* * *

Eight for a wish...

* * *

_

Watari seemed much more mellow now, the initial trauma of the case finally dulling enough to let him function properly. He was back on duty, and spiking the coffee again like old times.

Or maybe it was the random cuddlefests with Tatsumi that had him in such high spirits. (Pun possibly intented.)

Watari liked it. The fact that he could just walk into the man's office, shut the door, and then suddenly be in the shelter of comforting arms. Or when he was alone in his lab, thinking too much on his own, his mind threatening to stray to bad memories.. and then to be broguht out of that by a heavy warmth. It was.. nice.

And it was probably the only thing that was/had saved him from a painful and scary Tsuzuki-esque breakdown.

And though Tatsumi hadn't said anything, hadn't told him to stop (or ceased coming on his own) Watari knew it was time for him to discuss his feelings with the Kagetsukai.

Watari paused outside the door to his sanctuary to gather his strength. He knew that Tatsumi wouldn't be completely heartless (the man hated hurting others), nor would he tell Watari to stop coming to seek comfort. However, the man had a right to know exactly _why_ he had saved Watari. If nothing else, Watari owed it to the man to tell him.

He didn't have illusions of Tatsumi returning his feelings, other than maybe a strong friendship, but this subversive, dancing around, collecting things had gone on long enough.

And he had heard Tatsumi complaining about a missing necktie under his breath one day.

He knocked once before opening the door.

He shut the door behind him, as usual. Tatsumi glanced up and put down his pencil, already standing up.

"Tatsumi--" The secreatary paused. _Oh._ So it had come... the day he'd been expecting for awhile since Watari had started getting better. (He was strong after all, and he probably resented having to rely on him for comfort.) His body was on auto-pilot however, and his arms were at Watari's elbows, one of those pale hands on his chest, preventing a hug proper. Tatsumi steeled himself. It hadn't been his right to get so attatched to comforting the man. He _shouldn't_ have enjoyed being able to hold Watari like he did. (For gods sake, the man had come so close to oblivion it wasn't remotely funny! He should not be harboring fuzzy feelings at having the man in his arms if that was the reason for it!) This was going to be the speech he'd seen in his head a hundred times before. _'I thank you for your concern these past weeks Tatsumi, but we really should stop this nonesense. I am after all, fifty something years old, and I should be able to take care of myself. I wouldn't want to inconvienience you after all, stop by the lab for coffee though sometime.'_ And he would say it in that friendly, soft manner of his, smiling gently as he ripped the secretary's heart out of his chest and handed it back to him pulsing. What would make it worse would be that kindness, the fact that he didn't know.. and Tatsumi didn't think he had it in him to enlighten the man. And how had Watari wormed his way past his defenses in the first place? This was _why_ his heart was so guarded it--"Tatsumi I need to speak with you." He tried to smile, it might have worked.

"Of course Watari." _Anything for you._ Gods where did _that_ disgustingly cheesy thought come from? Tsuzuki's 'corniness' had to be catching. That was it. Watari appeared to be thinking, gauging his words carefully.

"Tatsumi.. for the last few weeks you have been very kind to me." Oh gods, why was this worse than his imagination? He sounded so apologetic--he had nothing to be sorry for!! "However, I.. have a bit of a confession to make." That...that wasn't in the script!

Watari took a breath and started again. "Tatsumi, these last few weeks you've really helped me. You've put up with my silly insecurities and strange demands."

"It was no trouble--" Tatsumi statred to say.

"Wait, please just let me finish. However, it meant even more to me because of.. what I feel for you." Watari sighed, "I've liked you for a long, long time Tatsumi, and I've always wanted to get closer to you, because you're so cut off.. so I started.. keeping things I guess. However, I've also realized that my collection doesn't really satisfy me, and.. though you may not reciprocate my feelings, I'm hoping we can at least be closer friends." He pulled out something from his pocket. A long, _fabricy_ something. Tatsumi stared at his tie for a long, long moment. Slowly, he reached into his own trouser pocket and pulled out a red hair tie.

They stared at the items in each others hand. It happened slowly. Reciprocal guarded shock slowly morphed into disbelief and then.. oh so slowly a two pairs of lips were fighting smiles. They looked at one another and something in that tension broke and they were laughing together at their absurdity. Watari had to lean against something solid for support (at the moment Tatsumi did not qualify).

"Tatsumi Seiichiro you _liar_!!" The man was choking on his own laughter,

"I didn't see you overeager to admit the theft of my tie, _Watari_"

"How many of my hairties do you _have_ Tatsumi." The kagetsukai was fighting for breath.

"..Only the four." This set Watari off again.

"Only four!"

"Well I take it you have some things of _mine_ that are missing? Like my stapler?" Watari took a few steps forward, still chuckling and placed his hands on Tatsumi's shoulders.

"What a pair we make. A couple of cleptos." He smiled at Tatsumi mischivously. "I guess that means the only thing left I have to steal is your heart." The secretary shook his head,

"You already have that." Yep, definitely contagious. Watari suddenly turned serious, his face only a short distance away,

"Then can I steal a kiss...?" Blue eyes darkened in anticipation at that. Tatsumi reached up a hand to cup the angular chin that held that delectable-looking mouth. His tone was equally grave,

"Only if I can steal one back."

_

* * *

Nine for a kiss...

* * *

_

It wasn't one of those affairs that led directly to sex and makeouts--though neither participant would have complained if it had. However, nor was it a disgustingly hormonal, sloppy battle of tongues.

It defied any description other than two souls, two lonely souls, who should have been together long ago, connecting for the first time.

_

* * *

Ten for a time...

* * *

_

Watari pulled away after some time, his lips still tingling pleasantly. Smiling happily, he leaned forward to peck Tatsumi on the lips once. "Why don't we go out for dinner tonight?" Tatsumi found himself reluctant to let the man go,

"Alright.. then maybe you could come over afterwards?" That smile brightened in intensity, like a small A-class star.

"Sure!" Tatsumi felt a small smile of his own. Watari gave his hands a quick squeeze and turned to the door.

"Wait a moment." Watari turned around, confused. "...Don't I get a kiss goodbye?" Watari was laughing again. Tatsumi decided he liked being able to make the man laugh. And if he got an extra smooch out of the matter, he wasn't going to complain.

**_

* * *

Of joyous bliss.

* * *

_**

Watari made his way back to his lab, humming and with an extra bounce in his step. Suddenly, Watari found he could believe that maybe, just maybe things were going to be all right after all. He was so busy singing, and anticipating the evening, he didn't even hear Tsuzuki call out his name.

"Heey Watari! Watari...?" Tsuzuki turned to his partner, a little put out at being ignored. "What's with _him_?" Hisoka just shook his head and smiled.

"Tsuzuki, you dummy, isn't it obvious? I told you we didn't need to interfere." The purple eyed Shinigami frowned.

"Wha? What do you mean...oh. _OH!!!_" And with that Tsuzuki was off like a shot, to start the next great wave in the office gossip vine. Hisoka shook his head, hoping somewhere in the back of his mind that Tatsumi would be feeling good enough to let things slide and _not_ slash their budget, but it wasn't much hope. After all this was Tatsumi.

Hisoka suddenly frowned at the idea of the secretary having a soft spot for the resident genius/mad-scientist. Okay. Now was _definitely_ the time to invest in a personal drinking thermos.


	5. Addendum

(About friggin' time... This only took a few months to write XDD Maybe I'll even get that court side-scene written now :3)

-----

**Epilogue**

About a month later, after one night when Watari actually went home--no he and Tatsumi weren't sharing a bed just yet--he awoke to a very startling sight. White and black plumage, a sharp, little black beak, bright eyes staring intently at him.

Watari bolted up with a strangled yell, scaring his visitor. It was a bird.

_A magpie._

Watari felt his lips part, could imagine his skin paling in fear, he could hear his blood racing.

And the bird just looked at him, with bright blue-black eyes.

Minutes went past... and Watari finally had to question, "Um... Hello..? What are you doing here?" The corvidae representative chirped and tilted it's head at him.

"What? _N-no!_ You don't make me nervous!!" Chirp, chirp. Watari felt his lips part again incredulously.

"You.. you _can't_ be serious... I mean..." The black and white bird at the end of his bed tilted its head affectionatelly and almost seemed to 'smile.'

Watari thought about it. The bird... seemed to be alright. And it certainly wasn't as if _this_ little guy had been _directly_ responsible for what that demon had done to him. Besides, could he really afford to be scared of a specific kind of bird...?

Watari held out his hand, "Come here." The bird obligingly fluttered forward and landed on his hand. "Open your mouth," the scientist sternly instructed. The bird did so again. _No demon's blood hiding under there..._

Watari sighed, defeated. "Okay... I guess you can stay." The bird flapped its wings enthusiastically with many a joyous caw. Watari stood, stretching, his new friend already on his shoulder. "Man, now I have to think of a name..." Watari thought for a moment. _Well..._ He looked at the black and white feathers. "Okay, I got it You'll be..." The magpie chirped and bobbed his head once to show that he understood his new designation.

Watari made his way to the bathroom, grabing a towel for his shower. "I have to warn you, 003 can get _very_ posessive sometimes..."

Watari couldn't help but smile at the bird's dismissive chirp, as if to say he could handle anything this 003 could dish out.

--

Later at work, Tatsumi's surprised voice startled Watari out of his thoughts.

"_Watari!!_ What is... is that _thing_ doing with you!?" Watari sighed again and put on a slightly nervous smile. (003 was well aware--and dubious--of this new stranger.)

"Tatsumi--meet 007." The bird politely cawed--admittedly much to Watari's amusement and Tatsumi's bafflement.

**-FIN-**


End file.
